


Push Through

by stephanericher



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Gen, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 14:28:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4395389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephanericher/pseuds/stephanericher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>for a prompt on tumblr. Haizaki falls through time again and again, each time meeting the same person.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Push Through

**Author's Note:**

> for tumblr user uneplumesombre, hope you enjoyed!

Shougo is eight the first time he falls through time. Well, it might not be the first time considering when and where he ends up, but this is when he’s youngest and it’s the first if the timeline goes by his life—which for him it does, because there’s no use being clever and pedantic about that kind of thing. When it happens, though, he’s unprepared—it happens to his brother; his mother thinks it might happen to him; he’s heard the things his brother has told him about blacking out because he’s spun so hard but this feels more like someone is shoving him forward hard enough to bruise his back and send him flying, and for a second he loses all his senses and then they’re back in double force as he lands painfully on the grass of his front yard again.

Only it’s not his front yard; just a moment ago it had been strewn with toys and overgrown, but now the lawn is tidy and rows of flowers surround the house. It’s painted white now; the coating looks shiny and it is definitely not like the faded blue it just was. And this moment takes longer than the others have, the moments when Shougo’s asked himself if he’s just traveled through time—but it settles in dully like a cup slowly filling with water and sinking under the surface. It cements itself in when a boy emerges from the house. This is not Shougo’s brother, nor is it any of his friends. His lip looks kind of funny (or maybe that’s some kind of tough-guy expression), and he almost does a double-take at the sight of Shougo.

“It’s you, huh?”

“What do you mean by that?” says Shougo.

The other guy shrugs. “We’ve met before. You’re a time traveler.”

Shougo scowls. “Well, I certainly haven’t met you.”

“Don’t talk back,” says the other guy. “Anyway, I’m Nijimura Shuuzou.”

“If you know me so well, what’s my name?”

The other guy grins. “Haizaki Shougo.”

So he does know something.

“How come you’re in my house?”

“I live here,” says Nijimura—and he looks like he’s almost laughing.

Shougo scowls harder and crosses his arms. He hates it when the bigger kids make fun of him, and they so often do. And then he’s shoved forward again, back onto his own unmanicured grass.

* * *

 

When Shougo is nine, he goes back—he hasn’t experienced it in a long time and thought that maybe it was just a one-time thing (his brother had suggested that it had been a dream and Shougo had tried to beat him up and lost, once again, for that, because it had been way to real to be a dream and besides, who the fuck falls asleep standing on the lawn when they’re perfectly awake?) but sure enough, he’s sitting in the grass and he gets pitched forward and lands with his chin in the fresh grass of Nijimura’s white house. He gathers himself after a few seconds; the place looks deserted and he’s not sure where to go. He doesn’t really want to go back when he’s far away, although he does know his neighborhood well enough to get back (even in another time, things can’t be that different).

“Who are you?”

It’s obviously Nijimura, and he’s obviously younger than last time, bits of baby fat clinging to his cheeks (bits that Shougo has most definitely shed himself, no matter how much his brother makes fun of him for still having them).

“I’m Haizaki Shougo and I’m a time traveler.”

“Right,” says Nijimura. “Is that why you’re on my lawn?”

He puts his hands on his hips and Shougo’s not stepping back because he’s intimidated; he just doesn’t want to be this close. That’s the only reason.

“It’s my lawn in my time,” Shougo says (and it’s so annoying that Nijimura hasn’t actually met him yet because they’ve already had this stupid conversation).

Nijimura opens his mouth to reply and Shougo falls forward into his own time again.

* * *

 

Shougo has to wait another year until he meets Nijimura again. This time, the lawn is not as well-maintained, growing wild and untrimmed. It’s not like Shougo’s lawn, but it’s still not what he’s come to expect. And Nijimura himself is sitting on the step reading a magazine; he looks over at Shougo and smiles.

“Hey, Kid.”

“Who are you calling Kid?” Shougo replies, sitting up.

Okay, Nijimura is a lot older than him this time, probably older than Shougo’s brother, and he’s wearing what looks like a school uniform with the shirt sleeves rolled up and tie loosened. And maybe he looks a little cool, but he’s still the guy who’d gotten mad at Shougo over this stupid lawn when he’s not even taking care of it anymore.

Nijimura shrugs and pats the step beside him. “Come sit by me.”

“Why?” says Shougo.

Nijimura scowls. “I’m just trying to be nice.”

Shougo plods over and flops down next to Nijimura, craning his neck to look at the magazine—it’s some sort of sports anthology. Boring. Nijimura flicks his forehead hard.

“Respect your elders.”

“How do you know I’m not actually your great-grandpa or something?” Shougo grumbles.

Nijimura grins, but it stays on his face like the flash of a camera that fades to something softer. “Trust me on that.”

They don’t talk for much longer until Shougo’s pulled back home.

* * *

 

When Shougo is eleven, his mother decides she’s moving the family once again; the price of renting their house is too steep and the only option is to get a smaller apartment in a grungier part of the city (at least they’re staying in the same city this time, though). It sucks; he realizes that unless chance is his friend he’s never going to see Nijimura again—not that in three meetings he’s gotten attached or anything. No way.

And he’s standing in the yard, obeying his mother’s orders to not get in the way while she packs, when he feels the familiar sensation. This time he falls right on top of Nijimura and then to the ground; he picks himself up quickly though, because Nijimura’s laughing. Shougo scowls up at him—he’s even older still. Shougo’s grown a year; he’s grown at least five.

“Hey.”

“Stop laughing at me.”

Nijimura shrugs, and Shougo crosses his arms.

“How are you doing, Kid?”

“I’m moving soon so you might not see me again. And don’t call me that.”

Nijimura shrugs again. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

The grass is mowed again; the paint on the house is fading. Nijimura ruffles Shougo’s hair. Shougo feels like he does when his mom is talking to her friend about stuff kids aren’t supposed to know about, that he’s not going to get the whole story until it doesn’t matter to him at all—but that’s that for now, and as he’s shoved by time once more he supposes it’ll have to do.


End file.
